His time with his parents were some of his most cherished deeply buried within him times. Those days of happiness and near simplicity ended on his first Halloween night as a one year old. His parents were killed, his father stalling for time for himself and his mother to escape and his mother protecting him.
He watched the traumatizing event with both his eyes held wide open. It was his first experiencing with death as well, green energy had covered him in a shroud, and had been forcibly ejected back at their source, their origin. It also served as his first kill too.
From there he was treated like a little prince from the day that he had been dropped unceremoniously and unconspicuously on the doorstep of his maternal aunt's house in Surrey. He enjoyed his time as some almost spoiled boy, up until his whole world came crashing down around him once again. This time in the form of betrayal when he had his first bout of accidental magic.
Yes magic. For magic was very real, and it flowed thickly within the blood within his veins.
It had been nothing but a small show of levitation, nothing harmful. Just a red ball almost hitting his cousin on the nose, stopping it in mid-air and having it fall harmlessly at his cousin's side.
It his relatives first encounter with that side of him, and it was their last, as his uncle would have nothing more to do with him and swiftly raised him by the back of his shirt and carted him off to the big city where he was dumped in some derelict part of said city and told that he was never welcome in his aunt's home ever again.
They'd thought him as being normal like them, but apparently they were wrong and he had only been biding his time for whatever reason he might have had.
That was when he was but five years old, to the second of his birth too.
While it had been his first betrayal, it just so happened to also be his first experience of hope.
It was there, in that derelict part of town that he met the man that he would later see as more of a grandfather if not a father. One that he could truly remember and would forever remember as the one person that had been with him from when he had hit rock bottom until he reached the heights of power, or close enough to it.
It was there and at that time that he met his first ever friend, his aunt, uncle, and cousin, even though he was young, could not be considered as such as not only had they been family, they had also betrayed him when his uncle ad he ad of the family kicked him out of house and home. For a little while at least.
A bit cliché, but it was raining when the two of them met for the very first time.
The rain was really pouring and there wasn't another soul around that dared to show him any care or give him any shred of hope. That was until he felt the rain stop pouring on him, the water slowed its descent against his head.
He looked up to see the wrinkled face of an old man had and who was also holding the umbrella that was keeping the rain at bay.
"Found you at least," the old man said, "I've been looking all over for you," he reached out a helping hand, "Come along then, stand up and let's get out of this rain."
He took the old man's outstretched hand and allowed the man to pull him to his feet, his soaked form making him shiver when a random gust of wind brushed past them.
He walked with the man, who had lent him his overcoat, a tad bit too big for his small frame, but at least it kept him warm and protected from the cold winds blowing all around them. Unknown to him it was simply the elements greeting him and celebrating, this also being the cause for the rain, the element of water was dancing with the element of wind.
They arrived at a modest house, in the mid-level income residential part of the city. He was led into a room with its own private bathroom and handed a towel.
"Go shower, it wouldn't do for the rain water to dry on you," the old man said, "You might just catch a cold, or worse, do that while I fetch you some clothes."
He was left in the room by the old man then, and did as he was advised. He noted that there was nothing in the room that could keep him from leaving, even the door had been left unlocked. So he just did as the old man said, not worrying about the old man being a stranger.
After leaving the bathroom, he found a set of clothes just his size laid out on the bed in the room, they were obviously for him. So he put them on and found that they fit him perfectly. Though he did wonder why such dreary colors were chosen for him, shirt, pants, socks, and shoes, were all black.
He walked, freely, out of the room and explored a little bit before finding the old man preparing some food for, as he guessed, the two of them.
It was over dinner, as he found it was around that time already, that the old man told him his name.
"I am Crius Crossworld, a rather unique name now don't you think?" the old man said.
"Yes, sir," he shyly replied, not sure whether what he said was wrong or right, but it felt right so he might as well go with it.
"Good, good," Crius, the old man, said, "How's the food?"
"Good, sir," he replied once again, "Thank you for it, and for helping me out of the rain."
"You are very much welcome," Crius said, "Now, let's get down to business. As I said earlier, I have been looking for you."
"Why is that, sir?" he asked the old man, butting in was normally rude but the old man supposed that this one whipper snapper could be exempted for the time being from that rule.
"Well, I was about to get to that, so listen," Crius said, "No questions until I say you can ask, understand," a nod was the reply, so he continued, "Now, as I was saying...You are special, more special than any other soul in this world save for my own. For your soul and your self are in a sense reincarnations of myself, and don't go thinking that I'm a ghost or something, its more that my essence had slowly been leaving me through the years and reforming into one such as yourself."
He gulped down some water before continuing.
"I," he pointed at himself, "Am not a normal person either. I too am special, just like you are yet at the same time different."
"How?" the boy asked, interrupting even though he knew he shouldn't.
"Well, whereas you can get sick or injured," Crius replied, not bothering to scold his young companion, "I cannot. I can only grow old, and one day I shall leave this mortal coil as I agreed to, with very little chance or returning or visiting again."
"So you can't get sick or hurt?" the boy asked.
"I cannot," Crius said, "I can only grow old and eventually, like most others in this world or reality, die. You, on the other hand, can get sick and can get hurt. But what sets you apart from everyone else in this world, save for myself in a sense, is that you are a mortal god. Think of the Christian savior, Jesus the Christ but with the powers of his Heavenly father."
"R-Really?" the boy asked incredulously, "But I don't feel all that special...my family don't want me anymore after all."
"Well they don't matter," Crius said, "I've been waiting thousands of years to meet you, and I'm not about to give you up right now. I am not your aunt, uncle, and cousin. I'm not your aunt Marge who is sure to not like you either at the moment. I told you who I am and more or less what I am, you can even say that I am your ancestor of a sort. So before I continue, I'd like for you to agree to call me grandpa. Ok?"
"Huh...ok..?" the boy said, rather surprised at such turn of events, he hadn't been expecting this at all when he woke up earlier that day, in the morning. He hadn't been expecting to be thrown to the curb by his formerly loving uncle either.
"Good," Crius said, "It might take me some time to convince you of what I'm telling you, but within you is the power of a god, although not on the scale of total reality manipulation. You are not some all powerful entity, just more powerful than any mortal on this world. You do not have the power to force your will onto others, but you can sway or manipulate their actions, Free Will is something that you are unable to truly eradicate, but I'm not saying that the Jedi Mind Trick won't work."
"Jedi Mind Trick?" the boy asked.
"I'll have you watch Star Wars some time," Crius said, a bit exasperatedly, "Anyway, since you'll be living with me now, I'll be teaching you as much as I am able to about your abilities, those from myself and those from your parents, while I didn't personally know them I know enough about them. I've also made sure that you will be legally seen as my grandson in all of the world governments."
"R-Really?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing, it was like some sort of fantastic tale from out of some bored person's imagination.
"Yes, really," Crius said, "Everything was sent into motion the moment that I stumbled upon you. Mind you, I wasn't aware that you were there, but we met, and that's all that really matters."
"Err...thank...I guess," the boy said, "So if I'm your grandson now...do I get a new name or something?"
"I have decided to call you Nexus Deadworld, for I cannot in good conscience give you my last name as that would designate you as my heir in greater things, if anyone asks, say that Deadworld was from your father's side of the family."
"Ok," the newly dubbed Nexus said, "But what is Deadworld? And why does it have the word 'dead' in it?"
"Deadworld is your own little world," Crius said, and handed over pendant of sorts, it was a marble that pulsated with a soft inner light, "This is Deadworld, or at least a representation of it in this world of ours. It is your own private little world of life, your own reality, your own dimension where what you say is law or truth. It is presently dead, and it will be up to you to fill it up with life."
"But what does that have to do with my name?" Nexus asked.
"A lot," Crius said, "My name is Crius Crossworld, or Crius of Crossworld, or Crius of the Crossworlds. In another life, the one that I have temporarily left behind or in a sense taken a vacation from, I am Master of the Crossworlds, which are realities made up of intersecting realities, you'll understand as you grow older I'm sure."
"But what does my name have to do with anything?" Nexus asked, bit impatiently.
"Patience, my child, patience," Crius advised, "You are Nexus Deadworld or Nexus of Deadworld, or Nexus of the Deadworld. Singular. Your world is the Deadworld. What does such a name have to do with anything? Well, in a sense you are my anti-thesis. You are my opposite in this reality, you are my balance. Where as I am a creator, you are a destroyer. I brought brought order into this world, you shall shatter that order."
"..." Nexus couldn't form a reply to that statement. His jaw kind of hit the floor with that little revelation.
"Of course as our life together progresses, I shall expound more on everything as I teach you my ways," Crius said, "And even though I said that you are my anti-thesis, my opposite, that doesn't mean that you have to act as it if you don't want to. While my strength lies in creation and yours in destruction, mine in order and yours in chaos, that does not mean that you have to be that way. You still have Free Will, something that everything that has at least some semblance of sentience has, and cannot readily be revoked."
"Ok.." Nexus said and his life as Crius' grandson truly began.
"Wait...one more question," Nexus said.
"Yes?" Crius said, after gulping down the rest of his glass of water.
There was a long pregnant pause.
"...I forgot what it was," Nexus said, it was as if the divine writer of his script had taken a break from making stuff up and returned only to forget the last thought that was to be included, and as if it had been an afterthought as well.